


When Reaper Met Kirk

by Arystina



Category: Doom (2005), Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, John Grimm is Leonard McCoy, One Shot, Reaper!Bones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2019-07-17 23:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16106042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arystina/pseuds/Arystina
Summary: John hadn't been looking to make friends. It wasn't his fault that Jim Kirk was so damned persistent.





	When Reaper Met Kirk

**Author's Note:**

> OMG, I actually wrote something new after...how long has it been? Stars. A decade I think? Granted, fragments of stories are sitting all over my house, but at least I finally got something completed.
> 
> This is actually a tie-in to a multi-chapter Doom!Trek fic I'm working on, but it didn't quite fit in the main story itself. I liked it enough though to keep it and made some changes so that it can be read on its own. This story is un-betaed. Apologies in advance for any errors there may be. I'm not by any means a professional writer and only write for fun.

* * *

 Starfleet.

This had to be one of the stupidest decisions he’d made in a long time. He had half a mind to turn right back around and walk away from the whole thing. Instead he found himself being pulled further into it, quite literally, as a dark haired woman in a Starfleet uniform practically manhandled him out of the lavatory where he’d been debating his life choices.

“You need a doctor.”

“No, I told you, I don’t need a doctor, I am a doctor!”

She was obviously annoyed with him, but he didn’t care. “You need to get back to your seat.”

“I had one in the bathroom with no windows!”

She was having none of it. “You need to sit down _now_.”

“I suffer from aviophobia. It means fear of dying in something that flies!” It’s an easy enough lie that rolls off his tongue, a small detail to help round out his current persona, though he did rather prefer to be on the ground than up in the sky with nowhere for anyone to run should everything go to shit.

“Sir, for your own safety, sit down or I else I’ll _make_ you sit down.”

He stared at her for a moment, then huffed in annoyance. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” The words were suddenly spoken so casually and he wondered if she felt victorious in making him sit. It was official; no going back now.

He glanced over at the young man seated next to him. He was vaguely reminded of the Kid from his RRTS team, who, at the end of it all, had the same stubborn set of his shoulders and glint in his eyes that he could clearly see in this man. Looked like that stubbornness got him into a lot of trouble too, his face looking as though he’d been in a bar fight recently.

Judging by the faint smell of sex and booze, he assumed that was the case.

“I may throw up on you,” he warned.

“I think these things are pretty safe,” the youth responded.

He scoffed. “Don’t pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. A solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And just wait ‘til you’re sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you’re still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding!” Sometimes he hated the fact that he knew so much in the medical field; there were a lot of things out there he might have been better off not knowing about. “Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”

“Well, I hate to break this to you,” the kid replied, “but Starfleet operates in space.”

“Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go,” he grumbled back, which was true. “The ex-wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce.” She may as well have. “All I’ve got left is my bones.” He fished a small liquor flask from his pocket and took a swig of the bourbon inside. Even if he couldn’t get drunk, the burn of the alcohol in his throat helped sooth his nerves. He turned and studied the kid for a moment, noting that the youth didn’t seem very put off by his behavior, and offered the flask.

The other hesitated, then took it. “Jim Kirk.”

“McCoy. Leonard McCoy.”

He didn’t know it at the time, but the shuttle ride wouldn’t be the last he’d see of the kid.

* * *

Jim Kirk decided that he liked Leonard McCoy. He probably shouldn’t, seeing as the man was rude, very opinionated, and liked to drink. Not exactly the ideal candidate for a Starfleet officer. Yet the doctor intrigued him. Something about him made Jim believe that his behavior was all a façade. There was some secret hidden behind that gruff exterior.

When he got through the command track at the academy (and he would), he decided that Leonard McCoy was someone he wanted to have by his side, and it wasn’t just because he was a brilliant doctor, which Jim knew, having hacked into the man’s file not long after the shuttle had landed at base and they’d been assigned their living quarters. He’d seen the other man’s extensive knowledge of the medical field, his various publications of revolutionary medical treatments, some of which were even praised by the Vulcan Science Academy, which was an impressive feat on its own.

McCoy was intelligent; Jim had seen it in his eyes, and should he ever get his own command, intelligent people are what he wanted to have by his side. It was of no matter if the man attempted to scare him away with his grizzly bear persona.

He was nothing if not adamant.

* * *

Leonard tried to make the kid leave him alone, truly, he did, but Jim Kirk had decided he was going to do the exact opposite. The younger man had this annoying habit of always being able to find him no matter where he was. The brat was probably hacking into his schedule. Leonard wouldn’t put it past him to do such a thing; the kid was a magnet for trouble.

Despite having completely different schedules, with his time primarily spent at the academy’s medical center and Kirk juggling a full workload of command track classes, the young man always seemed to find himself a regular patient on Leonard’s exam table. Not his coworkers, it was always _his_. He had half a mind to stick a nametag with Kirk’s name on the table considering how often he saw him sitting on it.

When he saw Kirk once again seated there, sporting a nasty black eye and split lip, he threw his hands up into the air in exasperation. “I swear to God, kid, I’m going to kill you one of these days.”

Kirk laughed, not realizing that the doctor was seriously considering it. “Aww, come on, Bones. Admit it. You love me too much.”

 _Bones? What?_ “Don’t call me that. My name’s Leonard McCoy. _Doctor_ McCoy to you.”

The young man wrinkled his nose. “You don’t seem like a Leonard to me. I like Bones better. You know…’all I've got left is my bones,’” he parroted the words the doctor had said back on the shuttle when they’d first met. "Besides, they used to call surgeons sawbones, right? So, Bones it is."

 _What a stupid nickname_ , Leonard thought sourly, though the irony of it wasn’t lost on him. His nickname had originally been Reaper after all, the very tattoo of which was hidden on his left forearm by the sleeve of his uniform. He scowled and quickly patched up the kid with a dermal regenerator and pointed to the door. “There, all fixed up. Now get out. And _try_ to stay out of trouble.” Though telling Kirk to stay out of trouble was like telling a Klingon to host a tea party. Not happening.

“But, Bones-!”

Leonard flung a hypo at him. “I said _out!_ Don’t let me catch you in here for the rest of the week or you’ll have more to worry about than some cadets playing rough.”

Kirk ducked and left, but not before the doctor saw one more smirk grace his lips.

_Brat._

* * *

After several months, Leonard firmly believed that the only way he was going to get Kirk to leave him alone was to kill him. Which really wasn’t an option. It would draw too much attention and result in too many questions, especially since Jim Kirk was no ordinary cadet due to his famous father, and, though he hated to admit it, he found himself growing fond of the kid.

_Dammit._

It didn’t help that the youth seemed to be absolutely everywhere he went.

Including his dorm.

Leonard had just walked in one evening, ready to relax and get some peace and quiet after working a double shift at the med center, and there was Jim Kirk, reclining back on _his_ bed with a PADD in hand. His eye twitched.

Kirk glanced up. “Oh, hey, Bones! Looks like we’re roommates now. Isn’t that great?”

There was no getting rid of him after that.

“I hate you,” the doctor grumbled halfheartedly, resigned to his predicament.

The kid only grinned, looking mighty pleased with himself.

* * *

C24 was a fickle thing. Leonard had done his damnedest to remove every trace of his past, leaving nothing that would allow people to link back to him, but despite his best efforts, his tattoo was not one of them. For whatever reason, the extra chromosome in his body treated the tattoo as being a part of him and always regenerated the design down to every last detail.

A dermal regenerator worked for a time, tricking his body into accepting the new skin, if only for half a day. He applied it in the morning, and by the time get got back from his shift, the tattoo had returned.

Given that he'd had no roommates prior to Kirk, having scared off any possible applicants with his grumpy demeanor, he'd often just stripped his shirt the moment he entered his apartment. With Kirk's arrival, he'd opted to change in the bathroom.

It had been a long day though, and he got careless.

"Whoa." Kirk hopped of his bed when he caught sight of the ink. "I never took you for a tattoo kind of guy, Bones."

Leonard stepped backwards, even as the other man leaned over to take a closer look. "Yeah, well, I am."

Kirk doesn't take the hint and grabbed his wrist, craning his neck to see it better. "The grim reaper? Seriously? Isn't that kind of morbid for a doctor?" He runs a finger over the scroll running horizontal under the black-clad figure. "What's R.R.T.S.6?"

He yanked his arm out of Kirk's grasp. "Just misspent youth," Leonard said flatly. "Now if you're done gawking, I'd like to go wash up."

"Misspent youth? What, were you in some sort of gang or something?"

"Or something," Leonard muttered under his breath before scowling at the kid. "So I have a tattoo. Big deal. It's really none of your damn business."

The fascination dropped right off of Kirk's face and his eyes flashed with hurt. "Oh, okay." He backed off. "I get it. We all have our secrets."

He looked quite crestfallen and Leonard can't help but feel like he's being an asshole to the kid. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before answering.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright." And he means it. "I didn't mean to be an ass. I just…don't like to talk about my past."

Kirk nodded. "I can relate to that. There's things I don't like to talk about either." He paused, idly scratching the side of his face. "Sorry for being so nosy." He turned back to his bed and plopped down on the edge, reaching for his PADD.

Leonard's gaze flicked to the digital clock on his nightstand and gave a small huff. "What say you give me ten minutes and we go get us a drink?"

Kirk glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. "On you?"

Leonard nodded. "Yeah, I guess I owe you that much."

"Then hell yeah."

As the evening progressed, Kirk quickly learned that the doctor could drink with the best of them, not even looking the slightest bit drunk when he himself was becoming unsteady on his feet.

"Sh-shit, Bones!" The kid was definitely on his last leg, his speech slurred. "You sh-should do…one of those…d-drinkin' contests sssome time… Y-you'd drink…them…all uunder the table!"

"It only looks impressive because you're such a lightweight," Leonard retorted, reaching a hand out to steady the youth. "Come on. Let's head back to the dorm before I have to carry you."

He ended up having to partially anyway, the kid leaning heavily against his side, and was practically dead to the world by the time Leonard deposited him into his bed.

"…Bones?" Kirk mumbled into his pillow.

"Yeah?"

"The…t-tattoo…" Kirk rolled over clumsily onto his back, limbs sprawled every which way. "I-ish cool… you know… Suitsss…you… Holdin' life 'n…death…in your handss…'n all…"

Leonard paused in his undressing, gazing forlornly at the dark ink on his arm, images of a life long past flashing through his mind. "Yeah… Yeah, I guess it does."

A loud snore suddenly broke through the stillness of the apartment.

Leonard huffed a soft laugh, lips twitching into a faint smile. "Kid, you really are something."

He didn't use the dermal regenerator anymore after that.

* * *

There were a number of secrets that the good doctor was keeping. There were also a few...quirks...about the man that Jim Kirk couldn't quite explain.

For one, the man didn't sleep much. He always went to sleep after Jim, and was always the first one up and about. Jim guessed that the doctor slept four, maybe five hours tops each night, yet didn't seem to be any worse off for it. Maybe it was the caffeine he woke up to smelling each morning. His roommate sure did know how to brew a mean cup of coffee.

For another, he noticed that the doctor was incredibly fit for someone who never seemed to work out. He caught himself staring on more than one occasion when the doctor pulled his shirt off. Not that he was interested in the other man like that, but it was hard _not_ to notice since they were living together in such close quarters. Jim was actually a bit jealous, especially since McCoy seemed to eat whatever he wanted without worry.

Despite a few nudges to direct the conversations between them, Jim never got the doctor to divulge much anything about himself or his past beyond having had his own clinic in Georgia and a mention of a bitch ex-wife and sweet kid he was forbidden to be in contact with since he wasn't the biological father.

He actually stopped asking after McCoy told him, "If you're that damn curious about me, go hack into my personnel file. I know you can. Now stop pestering me."

Point taken, Jim looked at the file again.

Turns out there really wasn't much to the man. Born in Atlanta, Georgia January 20, 2227, the only child of a David and Hannah McCoy, both deceased in a shuttlecraft accident.* No other family mentioned. Divorced, as McCoy had stated. An impressive number of varying medical degrees and dozens of publications and dissertations. Little else to be found.

Perhaps that's all there was to McCoy, though Jim was willing to bet otherwise. It was a feeling in his gut. Yet, while he was curious (very much so), Jim soon dropped his little investigation, respecting McCoy's desire for privacy. He knew what it was like. He hadn't lied when he'd said they all had secrets. He certainly did.

Tarsus IV being the biggest of them all.

Personally, he wouldn't like it either if someone poked and prodded him seeking answers. If not just because of the horrors he witnessed on that shit planet, he didn't want anyone feeling sorry for him.

The son of the great George Kirk, survivor of the biggest massacre in Federation history.

Starfleet had been quick to bury that in his files. High level security clearance only. Not only would it have been a media field day if it had gotten out that he'd been there, but people would treat him like he's made of glass. Or pity him. He wasn't sure what would be worse.

Jim would let McCoy keep his secrets, if there were any. The doctor was finally starting to relax around him. Jim might even go as far to say that they were possibly even friends.

It had been awhile since he'd had anyone he could call a friend. The only other person he could honestly say he called a friend was Captain Christopher Pike, but Chris had first been a friend of his father's, so he wasn't sure it quite counted. He did trust the man though.

Just as he was starting to trust the southern doctor, and he didn't want to jeopardize that.

* * *

Before Leonard knew it, he found himself dragged along on all of Jim Kirk’s schemes. Wherever Jim was, he was usually not far behind. He had to admit: he admired the young man’s audacity.

That and his sheer dumb luck.

He’d known the kid for several years now, and he was still surprised at the situations the young man managed to get into. Somehow Jim had gone from being on academic probation for cheating on the Kobayashi Maru simulation, to getting onto Starfleet’s flagship, the Enterprise (courtesy of Leonard of course), to actually captaining the Enterprise, to being declared a hero of Earth and then actually _getting_ the Enterprise as a reward.

Leonard figured that the Starfleet admirals were insane. That was really the only explanation for it all.

Yet, he had to hand it to the kid; he was a good leader, if a tad arrogant at times, and more often than not thought about those around him before thinking of himself. Which wasn’t always a good thing, as Jim found his way into Leonard’s sickbay more times than the doctor could count on both hands within just a short period of time.

But, Leonard realized, that was Jim. It was what he did, to put his life before that of his crew. It was what made him such a good captain.

And a good friend.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Yes, I wrote out McCoy's parents as they just don't fit in anywhere in my plans (especially given that, in this fic, Bones is Reaper). I also couldn't find his mother's name anywhere, so I made one up.


End file.
